


sensitive

by vaultbug



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, more like partial blowjob im hollering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22143085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaultbug/pseuds/vaultbug
Summary: The entire incident is an accident.
Relationships: Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 313





	sensitive

The entire incident is an accident. 

They are working. Supposed to be anyways -- but Entrapta’s attention had been quickly diverted from the portal to his arms when he had tried to flex his fingers and found them numb and unresponsive. That had been a fuss and a tizzy, but now, gauntlets lying beneath his feet Hordak flexed his digits and breathed.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Entrapta says across from him. She’s put her gloves back on and is staring at his hands like he is, watching him slowly nurse the life back into them. “The body coordination was on point. The gauntlets adapted quickly to the former technology. So why did they malfunction?”

“It was not your fault,” he says.

“Oh. Thanks.” That earns him one of her small grins. He has to look away to remain stoic. “But I don’t know  _ how  _ it happened.” Entrapta grows closer and snatches up one of his arms -- he allows her, knowing her too well to even attempt to snatch his hand back. Her fingers trace over his veins and he restricts a shudder. “The armour was integrated well into the First Ones’ tech. It should not have blocked off your vitals like that. Hmmmm. Oh, well. Lemme recheck your measurements.”

She grabs his arms and raises them -- and he is against the wall, arms over his head.  _ Oh _ , some part of him thinks, even though this is a professional examination and he should not be thinking of  _ that  _ right now. But away his thoughts go and interest suddenly rises and Hordak has a horrible foreshadowing of events to come. 

Her hair traces down his arms. “I’m not sure why the armour would be so constraining,” Entrapta remarks, totally unaware of the irony of this situation and how Hordak is pretty sure he’s going to become part of the wall trying to lean away from her. She takes out a ruler and remeasures his shoulders -- the hair tickles and he feels a pinprick of heat course through his body. “It’s the right fit, and flexible, correct? So it should not pinch or pin you...hm.”

“Entrapta,” he says gruffly, alarmed and terrified at this new feeling.

“Yes, you’re right, it must be the framework.” She raises herself and Hordak feels her brush against his chest. Not enough contact but enough for the betraying part of him to gasp. 

She pauses, and looks up. Hordak leans back again and knows he is flushed.

“Ah,” Entrapta says and it’s knowing.

He breathes and her hair wrapped around his hands flexes once, just to feel him. That fiery pit in his groin is swelling and he's sure he's burning alive, pretty sure that his interest is poking at her thighs. She doesn't say anything though. Actually, she's quiet so unlike Entrapta and he wonders if something's wrong. 

He cannot move though. It is frustrating as it is enticing and he  _ hates  _ it as much as his body loves him for it. Already his lower half has given up protesting -- he could kick her away, could free himself and retreat,  _ could.  _ He could, he frustratedly thinks. 

His body wobbles, betraying. 

“Entrapta,” he grits out, “I apologize -- this is unprofessional and --”

Entrapta interrupts him. "Query," she says and it's calmly flat, lovely to hear. Hordak writhes and tries to resist, to get friction, anything -- but all he does is heave breath and grow harder. "Is this another thing you like? I mean, I suspected it but...do you like this?"

_ Suspected?  _ He doesn't answer but his face is burning and he's certain he's about to combust here. He tugs at the hair and snarls. 

Entrapta flinches. Not noticeably. But he feels it through where she presses against him with her thigh. "Ah, no then," she says and it sounds disappointed. She starts to withdraw.

But it stings suddenly. He can feel the hair around his wrists slacken and he  _ doesn't  _ want that, he wants her to pin him useless here and make him do what she wants, he  _ does  _ want this...but. He closes his eyes. The memory hurts. Green eyes, white skin. “Only the weak  _ beg _ . We are strong, brother.  _ Strong _ .” His hands close automatically.

“I --”

She pauses in her retreat. He sees her eyes, hesitant -- one of her hands is hanging around where her mask is, itchy to place it over her face. Perhaps angry at herself that she made him uncomfortable. He wants to tell her, it is not uncomfortable. Embarrassing? Perhaps. Uncomfortable, never. 

The thought rises betraying.  _ You'd beg for her _ , it snipes.

He tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling, then grits his teeth. 

"I like it," he stammers, burning and needy. Even as he speaks he can feel embarrassment clog his throat, choking his words. Clones were never meant to want but here he was, a defect and lusting over a native like he had been injected with aprosiadics. Failure. Failure.  _ Failure _ .

Her eyes light up, and suddenly she is very, very close. "Are you sure?" She asks, voice chirpy and excited again, and the itch under his skin  _ screams  _ for her to touch him. "Because I like this. I really do. I don't know why, but ooh, you look just  _ appetizing  _ wrapped up like that it's like a present just for me but I can't enjoy it unless you're okay with it, y'know?” He’s struggling to concentrate now, with how close she is. She notices, draws back a little. The concern is back. “Of course, you don’t need to -- if you’re uncomfortable. Are you uncomfortable?"

Her rambling is not normally so distracting. Hordak closes his eyes again. "No," he forces out and flexes his fingers, feels a strand of her hair curling around his thigh. "This is...not unpleasant."  _ More _ , the betraying thought thinks hungrily as the stand brushes the inside of his thigh and his teeth clamp together loud enough to be heard.

"Wonderful!" she cheers and claps her hands and the hair around his wrists tightens and pins his arms higher against the wall. He tilts his head back, tries to ignore the burning pit in his stomach. Composure, he thinks. Keep composure. There were new things he was learning about himself and this was one of them. Every warlord had secrets. Even though a part of him just wanted to let her use him, love him, watch him twitch uselessly. "Is there anything you want me to do? Ooh, this is so exciting!" Her data recorder whips out and she presses the button just to say, "Day...I don't know I'm too excited -- Hordak shows appreciation to being strung up. I will have to keep it in mind for future endeavors. Note to try it on softer surface next time!" The data recorder turns off. "Alright! Is there anything you want me to do?"

He was going to have her delete that recording later, just in case Catra went roaming around. Still, the thought of her documenting what he liked...he almost smiles."Start slow," he grunts, because the bite of fear is still there. 

"Oh, ok," she says and leans forward to kiss him.

They do start slow, at least. Entrapta explores the kiss as she would with charting unfamiliar First Ones tech; steadily, infatuated, with an Entrapta-ness he could recognize anywhere. Her weight presses against him as she rises to meet him against the wall and he's acutely aware of how small she is. Yet he cannot move as she kisses him, can only reciprocate as much as he can with inexperience. It's sloppy. Imperfect. 

He thinks he's dying.

Her tongue swipes at his bottom lip.

He is definitely dying.

She parts and he realizes he is gasping for air, straining for her touch again as she retreats to look at him curiously. There is something else in her eyes now and when she leans in again the next kiss is...hungry, for the better term of it. Her teeth nip at his bottom lip and tug. 

And then she parts -- and as he opens his mouth to inhale deeply he just gets the barest glimpse of her removing a glove before the press of fingers against his mouth.

"Your mouth is fascinating," she says as he freezes with this new revelation, stunned as her thumb presses against his lip and slowly opens his mouth. Then, with her index she pushes up against his canines and traces his teeth. He can't move. He could bite her or scratch her -- and the thought of her blood in his mouth is not a thought he wants to have. "Do all members of your species have red teeth? It's uncommon here in Etheria so I’ve never seen anything quite like it!" The other hand goes to cradle the side of his face. He does not nuzzle into the hand but it is sure close to doing it and Entrapta’s eyes go half-lidden. “They’re pretty. You’re very pretty.”

He freezes.  _ Pretty?  _ Blinking up at her, he struggles and she pats him twice on the cheek. “I am  _ not  _ pretty,” he says, half-offended, half-embarrassed the hell out of his mind. He’s sure he’s blushing. The way his skin feels alight, he definitely is.

“Shush, you are.” She leans in, begins to kiss slowly down his chin, down his throat. His heart leaps in his chest and he has to bite back the noise of  _ oh _ as she pauses and nips at the skin. “Very pretty, all of you.”

“I am not --” He shuts up immediately as her thigh slots between his leg and rubs against the heat and --  _ prime _ , his head shoots back so fast he cracks it against the wall.  _ That  _ hurts but what she is doing down there is more distracting than the bite of pain. He gasps, still tries to protest. “ _ You  _ are beautiful,” he retorts and she hums with a shy sort of smile and runs her hands down his torso.

He’s rock hard now though. It’s embarrassing as hell not to be able to pull away; and as her thigh juts up it presses hard into his length and he makes a strangled choke. She takes it in stride though and giggles as he hisses when she repeats the movement. 

“Prime forbid,” he curses as his hands twitch, uselessly trying to touch. 

Entrapta hums back. "I think I like this," she says as she reaches down to feel him against her thigh. He gasps when her fingers touch him and hisses between teeth as she wrapped a hand around him. His hips want to rock forward but her hair has already seized him and he's pinned here against the wall like a chained prisoner, malleable. "You make nice noises. Do you think you can complete like this?"

He cannot speak. Her hand has started tugging and his head has hit the back of the wall so hard he's gasping. " _ Prime, _ " he swears when his mouth starts working and groans as she twists her hand  _ just  _ right. His legs are wobbling. He's panting already. So much for composure. So much for  _ anything  _ really, because thought has shortened out to  _ need need need. _

"I wonder if you could fit into me like this," Entrapta says as she strokes long and gentle and Hordak really needs her to stop talking because the dirty things she is saying is not helping. But her words sink in anyways and he's thinking of it now thinking how good it would feel and how she would moan and use him, have him fuck her as she held him up tight like this, unable to move but feel himself slide in and out of her --

Her strokes become rougher. He's aware he’s fighting back tears now, eyes stinging at how  _ great  _ it feels. Oh, god, he's fighting for composure but it's so good he's being ripped apart enough for his eyes to water and that's as humiliating as it is breathtaking.

Entrapta notices. "Oh, are you okay?" She asks and her hand slowens and that's worse, it's so much worse and Hordak tries to snap forward into her touch. 

"Don't stop," he slurs, "don't stop oh prime don't stop, please --"

She doesn't. Her next tug is violent and hard and he chokes on air, thrusts uselessly after her hand as she alternates between slow and fast. He never pegged her as a sadist but it was the only way he could describe this now; her hands alternating between slowing when he’s close, teasing around the tip. He could feel it close, wanted it  _ bad  _ \-- but then he hears her make an amused noise and slow down, denying him release. He’s limp in her arms now, not even trying to make the resemblance of protest against what is happening currently. The dam has been broken and he hears himself saying broken words, pleading and begging, broken dialect in Etherian and native. Please don't stop, please more, I love it I love you please please  _ please -- _

“Is this good?” She says and it’s light now, playful like how she sounds like she's repairing his armour, chiding him for growing frustrated. 

“Please,” he gasps again, not quite sure what he’s asking for, half-gone as he feels her breath against his throat and chokes as she slows down again. The words become frantic. “Please, let me -- Entrapta, let me --”

“It sounds good.” Her weight shifts off his side. He manages to look at her just to be greeted with the sight of her lowering herself closer to his cock, and then -- his body seizes up unconsciously as she slowly kisses the head and electricity trickles all the way up his spine, burning. He turns his head, tries to hide his face -- he knows he must look absolutely lost, must be -- be  _ groveling _ and he does not want Entrapta to see him so weak. So fragile.

Her hair pushes his head back. "You'll hurt your neck," she says even despite her lips still brushing along his length. "Are you sure you're ok with this?"

"Don't you  _ dare stop," _ he snarls and that gets a giggle out of her at least. He opens his mouth to snap at her for teasing him like this but the words die into a quiet groan as she presses her lips back against his tip. 

"More," he groans out and Entrapta obliges. Her smile presses against his cock and he feels like swearing at her to move,  _ move  _ god dammit but the slow kisses along his length have him twisting back against the prison of her hair for more contact, more. 

And then she licks a stripe and he gasps and lets go.

**Author's Note:**

> at this point the only canon i trust is that hordak gets pegged, more at 11


End file.
